


In Purgatory

by pseudanonymous



Category: Tangled (2010)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-10
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-28 20:47:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2746499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pseudanonymous/pseuds/pseudanonymous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Change can be difficult at the best of times, but when everything you've ever known is turned on its head in an instant, it can be even harder to negotiate. An attempt at a darker, more realistic gloss on events that transpire towards the end of the movie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Excommunicate

For a few moments, Eugene is not entirely sure what has just happened. There's a sharp stinging sensation in his right side, and across the room Rapunzel's eyes widen, frantic. Clutching at his belly, he can feel warmth and wetness spreading beneath his hands. Lifting one away to look, he sees a flash of red across his palm. His knees feel weak beneath him, and he stumbles, falling onto the flagstones.

Though gagged, Rapunzel tries desperately to call his name, to crawl across to reach him, but to no avail. The woman she'd thought was her mother has chained Rapunzel to the wall like a dog. She feels sickened as she watches Gothel step calmly over Eugene, who lies bleeding on the floor, and stride towards her.

'Don't worry, dear', she hears Gothel say. 'Our secret will die with him.'

 _Die?_ Rapunzel has heard of death of course, but it's an abstract concept for her, something she's read about, but never really experienced. But then again, what did she know of life until yesterday? And Eugene was the one that showed it to her, that brought it within her grasp. He is so full of life; how can he suddenly be emptied of it?

Then Gothel is pulling on the chains, hauling Rapunzel towards a flight of stairs that until this morning she never knew existed. She fights back with every ounce of strength she has, kicking and struggling. Broken glass bites into the soles of her bare feet, but still she labours on. Straining at her bonds, Rapunzel watches in horror as a callous Gothel catches sight of Pascal and kicks him clean across the room.

'Rapunzel!' barks her captor. 'Stop fighting me!'

A sudden twist, and the gag is dislodged. 'No!' the girl cries. 'I won't stop! For every minute, for the rest of my life, I will fight… I will never stop trying to get away from you!'

This is all she has left. Rapunzel prays it will be enough.

'But if you let me save him, I will go with you.'

'No!' The pain in his side is spreading, his wound now throbbing unbearably, but Eugene cannot let this happen. He tries to right himself, to protest more forcefully, but his body will no longer obey him. He can only listen as the girl trades her soul for his.

'I'll never run, I'll never try to escape. Just let me heal him, and you and I will be together, forever, just like you want… everything will be the way it was… I promise. Just like you want.' Rapunzel struggles to catch her breath, her voice heavy with emotion. One last plea.

' _Just let me heal him_.'

Somehow, it works. Somewhere inside Gothel, there remains a shred of pity; or perhaps it is fear for the state of her own immortal soul. Still, she unchains Rapunzel; the girl will not flee. In her stead, Gothel drags the boy to the bannisters. It will not do to have him coming after them once he is whole again. Shackling his wrist, she casts a lustful eye over his face, his body; criminal or not, Gothel cannot deny that he is a handsome young man. If they were only meeting under different circumstances, she thinks, she might have liked to get to know him more intimately. What does he see in plain, naïve little Rapunzel? It isn't just the magic. Gothel had been certain that once he got his hands back on the crown, that would be the last they'd see of Flynn Rider. Yet here he is, somehow.

'Eugene!'

Rapunzel rushes towards him, and cradles his face in her hands. In the back of her mind, she thinks that perhaps she should feel more conflicted; just yesterday they were this close, his lips almost against hers… and then he abandoned her. Or so she thought. That morning, walking back to the tower, she'd felt broken inside. Seeing the lanterns, sharing her dream with Eugene, had been the best moment of her life. She'd never imagined that only minutes later, she'd experience the worst.

But now Rapunzel feels yet another new emotion, perhaps more potent still than heartbreak – she feels terror. It's different from the kinds she's faced so far. She's feared for her life on more than one occasion over the last few days, but now she fears for his. She's never healed an injury this grave before. What if it doesn't work? What then?

Eugene's breaths are laboured and painful as Rapunzel carefully moves his garments aside, trying to examine his wound. There is blood everywhere. It blossoms red against the white of his shirt, leaves the leather of his jerkin dark and slick. Blood stains the floor, and his hands; now it stains her own.

'Oh, I'm so sorry…' Rapunzel murmurs as she tries to wrap her hair around Eugene's waist. 'Everything is going to be okay in a moment, I promise…'

'No, Rapunzel…'

'…you have to trust me. Come on, just breathe...'

'No…' His grip is weak, but Eugene tries desperately to push the girl's hands away. 'I can't let you do this...'

Rapunzel's anguish is etched on her face as she whispers, 'and I can't let you die.'

'But if you do this… then you… will die...'

'Hey…' Rapunzel forces a smile. 'It's going be all right.'

Eugene smiles back wanly. Rapunzel draws in a deep breath, and prepares to sing, but at the last moment, he stops her.

'Rapunzel… wait…'

She pauses, and turns to meet his gaze. Eugene brings his hand to her face, and brushes away a stray lock of hair. He knows what he has to do.

He wants to make this as easy for Rapunzel as he can. It takes all the strength that remains to him, but Eugene leans in as naturally as he can manage. He wants to kiss her; God, he wants to kiss her. One last kiss… one that might actually mean something. But there isn't time for that.

He's had the mirror shard palmed for some time. He can only hope that it's sharp enough to do the job. Eugene knows he only has one chance, one shot at doing this, and he doesn't think he can hold himself together much longer. So he makes his move.

The glass slices through the rope of hair with surprising ease. It is done. He is done. The piece of mirror clatters to the ground as Eugene's hand slackens, its owner giving in to the welcome embrace of unconsciousness.

'Eugene!' gasps Rapunzel. 'Why…?'

The girl clutches at her head, so light all of a sudden. The burden of eighteen years falls to the floor, darkening before her eyes.

'No!' Gothel leaps forward from the shadows, her voice shrill with anger, with panic. 'No no no… what have you done… _what have you done_?'

Rapunzel looks on as Gothel gathers up the remains of the golden hair, like a drowning woman adrift clinging desperately to a life line. It is hopeless; in the blink of an eye, the gold is gone, transformed to a rich, chestnut brown. However, Rapunzel's hair is not the only thing that is changed. Gothel, the tall, haughty beauty, is suddenly replaced by a wizened, white-haired old woman. Catching sight of herself in the broken mirror, the hag shrieks and claws at her hideous face, drawing the hood of her cloak ever further over her head. She staggers about the room like one possessed.

In the end, it is Pascal that seizes the moment. Taking the long, shorn hair in his mouth, he pulls it tight across the floor, and sure enough, the old woman stumbles. Instinctively Rapunzel reaches towards her, but it is already too late. The girl watches dumbstruck as Gothel plummets from the open window, howling and plucking at the air. For a few moments her screams resound painfully in Rapunzel's ears, but soon they fade to nothing. Gothel is gone.

Rapunzel does not have time to process the strange and terrible events she has just witnessed, however. Eugene remains slumped on the ground at her feet, motionless. He is pale, almost grey; for a dreadful moment, she fears that he is already dead.

The girl launches herself across the floor, and dragging Eugene's head into her lap, searches his face for signs of life.

'No no no no no…' she stutters. His head feels heavy in her hands, whilst blood is beginning to pool beneath his body. Rapunzel panics. Her own heart is thundering in her chest, but she cannot seem to feel Eugene's, nor hear him breathe. In desperation, she calls out his name, strokes his hair, his face. After what feels like an eternity, Eugene coughs, then with a rattling gasp sucks in an unsteady breath.

He lies listless in Rapunzel's arms as the girl makes one last, desperate attempt to save his life. Grabbing Eugene's hand, she presses it against her newly-cropped hair. Her voice is cracked and uneven as she tries to hurry through the healing incantation. She manages to finish the first verse, but nothing happens; the magic is lost.

Such is Rapunzel's concentration that at first she doesn't notice that Eugene's eyelids are open a sliver, that he is whispering her name.

'Rapunzel…'

She fights back tears, tries to compose her features. 'What?'

Eugene knows that his time is running short. It hurts to breathe, but he must get these words out. He needs for her to have known.

'You were my new dream.'

Rapunzel beams despite herself, despite everything. 'And you were mine!'

It is more than he ever hoped for. The faintest of smiles plays on Eugene's lips for a moment as Rapunzel squeezes his hand.

And then he is gone.


	2. The Late Repentant

Rapunzel has never felt so alone. She's watched Eugene sleep before, but this is different. He lies too still, too quiet; there is no rasp of his breathing, no rise and fall of his chest.

And then there are his eyes. She'd been fascinated by his eyes since she first saw them; a warm, rich, hazel brown, flecked with gold, they were quite unlike hers or Gothel's. If the eyes were indeed the windows to the soul, she fancied she'd seen Eugene's, and it was as beautiful and conflicted as its owner.

Now, though, she can see it is gone. Eugene's eyes remain half-open as he lies in her lap, but now they are empty, depthless. Rapunzel holds him to her for a minute or two before his unblinking gaze becomes too much to bear. Gently, she closes his eyes.

There is a faint sheen of perspiration over his skin, Rapunzel notices, new bruises and scratches on his body. Where had he been? Gothel had made it sound like a foregone conclusion that he would be put to death. Would hanging have hurt him less? The memory of him trying, and failing, to right himself remains sharp in Rapunzel's mind. How he'd clutched at his side and fought for every breath. The pain was etched on his face, she recalls, as he tried to push her away, when he still could. He gave his life for hers.

If Eugene had known that yesterday would be the last day of his life, would he have wanted to spend it differently? It was all her fault. She had forced him to take her to the Kingdom to see the lanterns. She had made him run up and down the streets with her, made him dance when he didn't want to. Had some guards spotted Eugene while they were in the square? Was that what had happened? She has so many questions, and now there is no one to offer any answers.

What should she do with his body? He is heavy lying in her lap; God knows, trying to shut him in a closet was difficult enough, she thinks with a faint smile. How can she get him outside? Should she? Rapunzel shudders as she recalls an incident from her childhood she'd tried to repress. One Spring, Gothel had brought back rabbits to skin and stew. Rapunzel had shrieked in disgust and alarm at the sight of their limp, bloody little bodies. She'd tried to heal one of them, but it was too late. She'd refused to eat the poor things, but couldn't bear the idea of letting them be thrown away, either. After a few days they'd started to smell. It was then that Gothel had had to explain death to Rapunzel. This, she said, was what the Bible meant when it talked about ashes to ashes, dust to dust. She would have to take the rabbits outside and bury them. It was the Christian thing to do.

The Christian thing to do. Rapunzel has read the Bible so many times, has found so many questions, inconsistencies, but over the years she learned not to ask. The Christian thing to do often seemed a rather arbitrary decision from Gothel herself. That first night in the forest Rapunzel had felt the first stirrings of desire, not for Flynn, but for Eugene; she couldn't be sure, but she'd thought that perhaps he liked her, too. It hadn't seemed so wrong until Gothel had appeared from the shadows, casting doubt on Rapunzel's own judgment. Carnal desire was wrong, she'd been told; she'd just never really known what it entailed until that day. Sitting beside Eugene, by the fire, Rapunzel had felt drawn to him, to know more about him. To know him. She'd held his hand when she'd healed him, and it had felt good; it had felt right. Then Gothel had come and drawn up those feelings of doubt and guilt. When Eugene had returned with his firewood, Rapunzel had felt driven to distance herself from him, and settled herself for the night on the opposite side of the fire. What might it have been like instead to have lain beside him, to have felt his arms around her? Now it is too late.

Rapunzel allows her hands to smooth over Eugene's shoulders. With the clasps of his jacket open, she is afforded a view of the exposed span of his chest. She's seen it once before, on that late afternoon, when they'd dragged themselves, soaking, from the riverbank. Their clothes had been drenched, and they'd stripped off what they could, leaving them to dry in what was left of the sunshine. Rapunzel had been self-conscious as she unlaced her dress and stays, but she'd almost forgotten once her attention began to wander to how Eugene was faring. He'd tugged off his boots first of all, before unfastening his belt and slipping off his jerkin, giving it a thorough shake and hanging it from a sturdy-looking branch. Then he'd grasped the collar of his shirt and tugged it over his head.

Rapunzel had given herself away when she let out an involuntary gasp. Eugene's body was so different from her own, and so different from what she'd expected. He was slim but strong, broad shoulders tapering in to a narrow waist. Dark hair spread lightly over his chest, a fine trail snaking down his belly.

He'd raised his head, and for a moment, their eyes had met. Rapunzel had almost wished the forest would swallow up, she'd been so embarrassed. She'd expected him to lord it over her, to make some crass comment, but to her surprise, he hadn't. He'd just pulled a sort of lopsided grin, shaken his head, and hung his shirt up to dry.

They'd not spoken of that moment, that look. But Eugene wouldn't, really; that was something Flynn would do. And Flynn was gone.

Now, so is Eugene.

Rapunzel cannot quite believe that she is managing to remain this calm. Her heart is thundering inside her chest, but she can't seem to move. She just cradles Eugene's body in her arms and wishes there were some way she could turn back time.

At least, Rapunzel thinks, he seems peaceful now. His body is relaxed, his face seemingly unperturbed. She holds him close.

Of course, he doesn't respond. Rapunzel shifts and catches sight of the mirror shard that lies beside her on the floor. The one that did all this damage. The sharp edges of the glass have sliced through Eugene's hand as well as her hair; there's a cut on his left palm, right where he'd hurt himself before. Opening old wounds.

Still, it's the other wound that's the real problem, isn't it? Gently, Rapunzel unfastens Eugene's jacket and pushes aside his shirt, exposing the skin of his stomach. His side is slick with blood, yet the wound itself seems so small. How can this have ended a man's life?

Carefully, Rapunzel rearranges Eugene's clothes, and tries to wipe her hands on her skirt. The light outside has turned cold; is it the world reflecting her sadness, she wonders, or has time simply passed without her realising? She can feel tears beginning to prickle at the corners of her eyes. She can't cry. It feels as though if she cries, then it's really over; he's really dead.

Will anyone miss him? It seems unlikely that the authorities will. In fact, for all his good looks and easy charm, it didn't seem like anyone really liked Flynn Rider. But what about poor orphan Eugene Fitzherbert? Surely he must have had some friends, acquaintances, someone who will miss him? Or perhaps not. It seems awful to think that even after having known one another for less than a week, she might be the only one to mourn his death.

Rapunzel doesn't realise that she's started to sing again. Although she knows now that the incantation was a mechanism of control, it's become almost instinctive, a comforting ritual. In the square yesterday she'd watched as a young mother soothed her fractious infant, singing a simple lullaby as she rocked it to sleep. Perhaps it's for herself, or perhaps it's for Eugene, but she means every word.

_Heal what has been hurt_

_Change the Fates' design_

_Save what has been lost_

_Bring back what once was mine…_

Was Eugene ever truly hers? Yes. In those last few moments, clasping his hand, his head in her lap, Rapunzel had felt true honesty from him. If this were a fairy tale, those whispered admissions would have made everything better; Eugene would have had his arms around her now, instead of having them lie limp and bloodied at his sides.

_You were my new dream…_

… _and you were mine._

Past tense. He knew he was going to die, stupid, brave, stubborn Eugene. He knew he was going to leave her all alone.

Alone.

… _what once was mine_

is hers no more. The song is done, and he is still gone. Pressing her forehead against Eugene's, Rapunzel feels the tears coming thick and fast now, and she doesn't think she wants to try and stop them anymore. Clutching Eugene's body to her own, Rapunzel squeezes her eyes shut and sobs.

Perhaps that's why it takes her so long to realise that something very odd is happening. The gathering gloom of the tower has been broken suddenly by shards of bright, golden light. It seems to spring forth from the site of Eugene's wound, the shards bending and twisting into long, glorious strands that fill and illuminate the entire room. Then as soon as they appear, they are gone, dissipating like vapour into the air.

Despite this extraordinary event, Eugene remains still in Rapunzel's lap as she searches his face for any signs of change. There are long, tortuous moments before she sees his eyelids flutter, and he draws breath once more.

'Rapunzel?'


End file.
